My father was the love of my mother’s life. Twenty-eight years into their marriage, however, his affections for someone else ultimately led to their divorce. My mother was devastated and shared with me that she could have lost him to death easier than losing him to another woman.

Yet her behavior during this most difficult time of her life revealed her great capacity for loving-kindness, as I never saw nor heard of her trying to get even. She bore the heartbreak in a dignified manner; and even though it took years, she finally was able to move on.

I, on the other hand, was so angry with my father that I isolated him. My mother had the wisdom to allow me to work through my anger at my own pace, but she made it clear she was not in favor of the isolation.

Even though the commitment of their marriage had been severed, she still loved the fact she had brought a child into this world with him. Regardless of his actions, she delighted in the creation of me with him.

In fact, it was through my observations of her behavior that I finally realized I needed to take the first step to restore the father-daughter relationship.

Dr. Richo reminds us that some people will like us and some people will not. Some people will care for our feelings and some people will walk all over them. Some people will be faithful to us and some people will betray us. And, people we care deeply for will sometimes hurt us, either intentionally or unintentionally.

A mature adult accepts this as a “given of life.” The work of a psychologically mature adult is to feel the hurt rather than flee from it. The work of a spiritually mature adult is to feel the pain without having to retaliate.

Yet again, the “unconditional yes” is the healthiest response to disloyalty and unkindness from others.

In all honesty, I find this “given of life” the most difficult one of the five to speak the “unconditional yes” over. I believe this is because I do expect to be treated with love and loyalty all the time, especially by people for whom I care deeply.

I have learned from reading Dr. Richo’s book that my fragile ego is to blame. And I realize now that my tendency to judge my own worth by how someone else feels about me or treats me has caused me great sadness over the course of my life.

Several years ago, I had the honor of working with a brilliant young woman who shared something she had recently learned from a counselor helping her navigate through a difficult time.

The counselor told her to think of her self-esteem, her sense of self-worth, as a paper cup full of water. He illustrated how fragile a paper cup full of water can be if it is ever surrendered to another person. Even if that person loves you with all their heart, they might occasionally be inattentive, tip the cup and spill some of the water; or they might have so much in their hands that they accidentally drop or crush your cup.

Surrendering one’s cup to a careless, selfish, or thoughtless person can be disastrous—as such an individual, for whatever reason, has care of that cup near the bottom of their priorities.

His advice: “Hold your own cup.” Be the author of your own statement of self-worth. Love yourself, believe in yourself, build and maintain your own self-esteem.

Given that, the “unconditional yes” to the “given of life” that says people are not loving and loyal all the time looks like this: We drop the belief that we are entitled to love and loyalty from everyone. Instead, we hold our own cup, which, in turn, enables us to choose to focus on being loving and respectful toward everyone we meet.